My Guardian Angel Carries a Shotgun
by Tortured Hylian Soul
Summary: It has been nearly two years since the Los Illuminados incident. Thanks to Mrs. Graham, Leon hasn't been able to see Ashley since then. But lately, he has been having nightmares about Ashley crying out for help... [LeonXAshley On temporary hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Leon's point of view. 

P.S.: 'Colmillos' is Spanish for fangs. Colmillos are those infected wolves that show up at night.

"_Leon!"_

"_Ashley!" I cried out._

"_Leon, help!"_

"_Ashley, where are ya'!" I ran through the labyrinth of stone, desperately searching for her. 'She's got to be somewhere around here!' I thought._

_Suddenly, a Colmillos leaped out of the darkness and into the faint moonlight of the night. The Plagas parasite immediately tore through its back, blood and bodily fluids spraying everywhere as the infected creature writhed in pain, the tentacles and bone-like scythe whipping around, searching for my flesh to tear open. I instinctively backed away, simultaneously re-loading my shotgun. But I was too slow._

_The infected wolf's tentacles knocked the weapon out of my hand, it landing softly in a patch of grass several feet away. One of the tentacles wrapped itself around my left leg, and, with surprising swiftness and strength, it lifted me off of the ground. I was suddenly upside-down. I reached for my knife._

"Leooooooooonnnnnnnnnn!_"_

"_Don't worry Ashley, I'm coming!" I didn't even want to think of what they were doing to her to make her scream like that. The scythe now was becoming closer and closer, and found my face. I felt it tear a deep gash from my forehead to the right side of my jaw line. I cried out in pain, and simultaneously heard Ashley scream. Loud. _

_My knife was now cradled securely in my hand, and I sliced through the tentacle. I landed on the ground. Head first. Onto something _very _hard. I clumsily jumped to my feet, clumsily due to the fact that my head felt like an El Gigante itself had just stepped on it. I had landed on my shotgun. Chalk one up for Kennedy. _

_Within a few seconds, the heavy firearm was embedding lead into the creature. It howled, and fell, disintegrating into the dead earth. _

"_Ashley!" I cried out again._

_Nothing._

"Ashley!_" _

_Silence. Ominous silence._

_I now broke into a run. Then, a sprint. Several more Colmillos jumped in my way. I easily blew through them, determined to rescue Ashley. _

_Then, I saw her. Unconscious and chained to a wall. Her clothes torn. _In a revealing way._ Her face, bloody, sweaty, and tear-stained. Surrounded by male villagers. _Who were laughing and smiling. _Oh, _God _no! _That_ is when I felt the anger and rage course through my veins. _

_I found myself screaming like a madman, charging towards the group with my gun blowing holes through their heads. They all fell to the ground and disintegrated. Not one parasite. Chalk another one up for Kennedy. _

"_Ashley?" I shook her as gently as I could. She didn't move. "Ashley?" Still nothing. I experimentally checked her pulse, trying not to think of the worst. Her skin was icy and waxy, yet her pulse was beating very quickly. Almost ninety beats a minute. _

_Then, it abruptly stopped. "Ashley!" She neither moved nor spoke. I felt my eyes growing hot, and everything was blurry. _I_ was crying? Agents aren't supposed to cry! They're not supposed to grow attached to the person they're protecting either!_

_Yet here I was, sobbing over her. _

_Suddenly, I felt her wrist shift in my hand. I looked up in surprise. Her eyes were moving under her eyelids, repeatedly scrunching in discomfort. She was moaning and kicking slightly, and her hands repeatedly balled into fists. Her eyes suddenly shot open._

_I expected to see those warm, hazel eyes that she possessed, but I saw something quite different. Her eyes were glassy, dead, and _red_. She was infected! "That's impossible!" I muttered. "You had the parasite removed!" But her eyes remained glassy and red. Her eyes soon found mine, and widened with surprise._

"_Leon?" she whispered weakly. "Leon, is that you?"_

"_Yes, it's me…" I answered calmly. 'What the hell just happened!' "Don't worry, everything's alright now-"_

"_-No, it's not, Leon…" she interrupted._

"_What are you talking about? I wont let anything ever happen to you!"_

"_Leon, you don't understand," Her eyelids slowly began to fall as her hand wrapped itself tightly around my hand. "Neither of us are safe." Her eyes were now closed. The chains bounding her to the wall snapped, and her body landed heavily and limply on mine, her face pressed against my chest. Her skin was very cold, and she was trembling slightly._

_That is when she began to cry. I pulled her into a hug. "Shhhhh… It's okay Ashley. I'll get you safely out of here, I promise…" With great effort, she pulled her head from my chest. I nearly yelped in surprise, but managed to stop myself._

_She was crying blood. "Help me Leon!" she screamed._

I awoke gasping, finding myself covered in a cold sweat and wrapped in twisted blankets. I immediately turned toward my digital clock. It was 2:07 a.m. I wrestled out of the tangled mess of sheets, and walked across the carpeted floor of my apartment to the cold tiles of the bathroom. I didn't need to turn on the light to see where I was going, I had lived here long enough to know where things were without tripping. Cold water was soon pouring out of the faucet of the sink and collecting within the bowl. I dunked my face into the cool water, which immediately sharpened my senses.

The phone began to ring. I let the answering machine take it. I soon heard my voice speaking from the other side of the room. It was soon replaced with a deep, angry voice.

"Kennedy! Pick up the frickin' phone! It's Robertson! Get your lazy ass up! This is an emergency! Kennedy!"

'_Oh, great, him…' _I thought glumly. I slowly made my way to the phone, and picked it up. "Kennedy here."

"About time Kennedy!" he exclaimed. "I thought you'd never pick it up."

"Good morning to you too."

"Ha, ha. Very funny Kennedy. Listen, get down to the office, now! The President himself is asking for you!"

"The President! But Mrs. Graham said that if I came within even two-hundred feet of the White House, she'd-"

"-I know what she said Kennedy! We all do! Just come down here before 0500 hours!" He immediately hung up. I groaned, and placed the phone down. '_Does he always yell?'_

The windows next to me were coated with frost. I would have to get my jacket. I remembered that I had left it somewhere in the bathroom right before I took a shower. I made my way through piles of dirty laundry back to the bathroom, and switched the light on to search for it, and found it.

I turned back to the sink to drain it, and gasped. The water was stained with crimson. I looked into the mirror. I had a deep gash leading from my forehead to the right side of my jawline.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr. Kennedy, would you like some coffee?" the brunette, over-peppy secretary asked.

"Yes, please," Leon answered tiredly. "I haven't had anything all morning." The woman gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How would you like it?"

"Black." He checked his watch. It was 4:56 a.m.; just about 0500 hours.

He could not remove the nightmare from his mind. It was so dark, so ominous. He hoped that Ashley was okay. It seemed more than coincidental, considering the fact that Robertson called him, just minutes after waking up, and said that the President was asking for him. He knew he wasn't the brightest torch in the mob, but he thought that it must have meant _something. _

"Here is your coffee, Mr. Kennedy," the woman announced with another smile.

"Thanks…" She placed it down in front of him, then made her way to the door.

"Mr. Robertson will be with you shortly."

Leon nodded. "Alright." She closed the door behind her. Leon took a sip of the coffee.

"Seven years of working here and the coffee still tastes like crap," he muttered with a wrinkled nose. He continued drinking it anyway. _But it's better than the secretary's "cocoa". Nice lady, terrible cooking, if you can call it that anyway… _

He was very glad that he had chosen to bring his jacket. It must have been, at the most, sixty degrees in the room. Other than the crappy coffee, he was the only source of warmth in that part of the building.

The area was very dull; nothing but gray and white. The only colored object surrounding Leon, other than the mold growing on the ceiling, was a green fern placed next to the coffee machine by a very unsanitary sink, just to liven things up a bit Leon guessed. _Like trying to put a tube top and mini skirt on a sixty-five-year-old-woman, _he thoughtHe took another sip, emptying the Styrofoam cup, and threw it in the gray garbage can a few feet away from him.

The double-doors behind him burst open, revealing a slightly disheveled suitcase-carrying Maurice Robertson. Without so much as a greeting, he grabbed a cup of coffee that had been filled by the secretary, and threw himself into a chair opposite of Leon.

"Good to see you're actually here _early_, Kennedy," the older man said gruffly after practically ripping open his suitcase.

"There's a first time for everything," Leon said with a hint of sarcasm. For the first time, Maurice looked up from his papers.

"Kennedy, what the hell happened to your face!" he exclaimed, indicating the gash extending from his forehead to the left side of his jaw line.

"If I knew, I'd tell you." There was silence for several seconds. Maurice smirked.

"Listen, _Leon,_" He only addressed him by his first name when he really wanted him to listen. He pulled out a black cell-phone. "Mr. Graham will be talking to us on speaker-phone shortly. So, if you even speak with a _hint _of your notable smart-assery or sarcasm, I will skin you alive." He said this in a dangerous tone. Leon mentally laughed.

_Leave it to Maurice to use threats in virtually every sentence!_

"Yes, _Mother_…" Maurice glared at him. Leon smiled innocently. "What? Just getting it out of my system." The older man sighed, and nearly jumped out of his skin whenever the phone rang and vibrated in his hand.

"It's him, Kennedy!" He pointed at Leon and made a slitting-throat motion. Leon smiled innocently again.

'_Don't worry, you can trust me,_' he mouthed. Maurice looked doubtful. He flipped the phone open.

"Good morning, President Graham!" he exclaimed jubilantly. "Yes, he is here… Please wait for a few seconds." He pressed a few buttons, each making a high-pitched beeping sound, and placed it down on the table in between the two.

"Hello?" a voice called from the speaker of the phone. "Kennedy, you there?"

_Time for the "polite" Kennedy to come out of hiding. _"Yes, I am. Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Agent Kennedy. I am sorry for awakening you so early, but this is quite a problem." He cleared his throat.

"How is your family?" Leon hoped that this sounded casual. In reality, he wanted to know if Ashley was okay.

"My wife and I are fine, thank you. But my daughter, well, let's just say that she is the main reason why I wanted to call you…"

_That could not be good… _Leon thought.

"Lately, Ashley has been acting very odd; she is almost always in her room with her door locked. I've called her college friends, and they are saying that she still talks to them, but she is usually very quiet and solemn… Fortunately, she still speaks to me and my wife, she doesn't seem to be harming herself, and her grades are not dropping, but…" He left the sentence hanging, and sighed sadly.

Leon couldn't believe his ears. That did _not _sound like the Ashley that he knew. She was the bubbly, perky, and always had that "Everything-will-be-alright" attitude type. Could it have anything to do with the incident two years ago?

"Sir, do you think that this might have anything to do with the Los Illuminados incident?"

He heard the President sigh again. "I am not excluding that possibility. But, I would think that she might have been like that very soon afterwards. I know that an event like that can leave… scars… But, she didn't have these symptoms whenever she came home. I mean, sure, she was shaken and frightened, but she was _never_ like this… I have tried sending her to psychiatrists, but they do not seem to be helping at all. She seems to meditate in her room a lot."

Maurice, meanwhile, was listening to the whole predicament without a word.

"President Graham," Leon began, "this does seem odd. You are right about it leaving scars. After Raccoon City, I'll admit that I had nightmares every night for a few years. I still do, but it is unusual that such…" He paused to find a word. "…extreme symptoms are suddenly appearing out of nowhere like this… Forgive me if this sounds disrespectful, but why are you talking to me, of all people, about this?"

"Kennedy, I am speaking to you, because you are one of the few people that actually understands what Ashley has really been through in Spain. She also has full trust in you…"

There was an awkward silence as all three men cleared their throats.

"Kennedy, I am promoting you to become Ashley's bodyguard. I also want to see if you can figure anything out about her sudden change…"

Leon was genuinely surprised. "Sir, what about your wife's order?"

"Don't worry about that, I have taken care of it." He did not explain how.

"Maurice will escort you to The White House shortly. We will sort things out there… I will also have to talk to you about something else, something else that involves _Umbrella_."

_Umbrella?_

"I will see you then." The phone beeped again, and a dial tone soon replaced it.

Maurice turned the phone off, and hid it in his jacket pocket. "Hear that, Kennedy? You're going to The White House."

* * *

She had the large knife gripped tightly in her left hand, preparing to let it slice through the thin skin on her wrist. Tears and sweat were coating her very pale face. 

"I can't do it…" she whispered shakily. "Things may be bad, but…" She threw the knife into her bathroom in disgust, and made her way to the balcony her father had installed for her. Her father… He was the only thing that kept her from committing suicide, the only thing that kept her going, her last hope.

"Looks like it's going to rain," she said to herself. She smiled grimly. "Good…" The rain had always calmed her, no matter what… The small garden below her balcony had withered in the cold January wind. She missed that garden… It was the last thing to remember him by…

A sudden screeching of tires turned her attention to the driveway. A blue Pontiac was there, the tires worn slightly, leaving black marks on the pavement. A tall, middle-aged man steeped out from the driver's side. She instantly recognized him: Maurice Robertson. Nothing was out of the ordinary there; he always helped her dad. She could hear the man laugh from where she was standing; she wasn't that far away.

"Sorry, Kennedy!" he said with a laugh. "I've never been known for driving cautiously!"

_Wait a minute, _she thought, _Kennedy! Whoa, whoa, easy girl, it's probably just a coincidence, there's no way it could be him… _A handsome blonde man stepped out, shaking for a dramatic effect.

"Robertson! You can kill a person like that!" He started laughing. "How you got a license, I'll never know!"

"Oh my-!" she exclaimed. "It _is _him!" A part of her wanted to run down there and give him the tightest hug _ever_. She ran to the door, stopping her hand by the knob. Maybe her mother had forgotten to lock-

-Nope. She tried twisting it, but the lock stopped it from turning a full circle. Fresh tears fell from her eyes. She ran and threw herself against her hard mattress, sobbing her twenty-two-year-old heart out.

"What does it matter?" she asked between gasps. "He betrayed me, left me without so much as a goodbye! _What could he possibly want now?" _

She soon ran out of tears, and breathed deeply as she laid her head against the now soaked pillow and bedspread, her eyes slowly closing due to lethargy.

He left me… 


	3. Chapter 3

**IT'S FINALLY HERE! Well, I honestly don't think its the best thing, but I had to put _something_ up before I got shot by an impatient reader...**

"Sorry, Kennedy! I've never been known for driving cautiously!" Leon heard Maurice exclaim from outside of the car.

The blonde stepped out, shaking for emphasis. "Robertson! You can kill a person like that!" He felt his body shake as he laughed like an idiot. "How you got a license, I'll never know!"

He then turned in the opposite direction, noting the black marks Maurice left on the pavement, towards the White House. It had been quite a while since he had actually been this close to the building; the last time was whenever he had come to a special dinner in which the President and First Lady "congratulated" him on bringing Ashley home safely.

Ashley and her father were gracious and hospitable, (though Ashley would sometimes seem embarrassed) but Mrs. Graham was all fake smiles, and glared at the agent whenever no one was looking. That was not only the night that she had established the order, but that was literally the last time Leon had seen Ashley until now…

A sudden flicker of movement turned his attention towards his left. A small, white balcony stood there, devoid of anything but a few chairs. The blonde saw a flicker of something golden through the glass door, and then it was gone in an instant.

_Ashley…_ Maurice's words dragged him from his thoughts.

"Kennedy, we better get inside." He looked at his watch. "It's almost 7:00. Come on." He locked his car with a push of a button, and walked forward. Leon shot another glance at the balcony, and followed Maurice through the entrance with a comment of "Ladies first".

* * *

"_Is this really necessary?" _Leon mouthed towards the older agent as a man ran a small metal detector over his limbs._ "They know us; it's not like we're going to shoot the president and blow up the building!"_

Maurice, a master at reading lips, rolled his eyes as he received the same treatment. _"You can never be too careful." _After finding nothing out of the ordinary, the two were led by a brunette man that muttered something about the Oval Office.

As the trio moved through the maze of hallways, Leon peered around casually, taking in the design of the building and wondering how Ashley was even able to find her bedroom. He took special notice of a bronze statue of a beautiful, smiling woman that reminded him quite a lot of Ashley. It had a golden plaque beneath it.

"**Eve Graham **

**Res**-"

He would have to read the rest of it later: He had a job to do.

The man leading them stopped at a large wooden door with what looked like a speaker of some sort to the right of it. He pushed a small button beneath it, causing the speaker above it to emit a crackle of static. "Yes?" a male voice asked from the other end, Leon recognizing it as the President's.

"Sir," the man began. "Thompson here. Robertson and Kennedy have arrived."

"Very well. Send them in and return to your post."

"Yes, sir." A small _click _sounded from the other side of the door. The man named Thompson pushed it open gently, muttering "You may go in.", before walking away. Leon followed Maurice through the doorway.

As he closed the door behind him, Leon examined his surroundings. _This room has really changed since I was last here... _he thought. Sure, there was still a fireplace at the north end of the room, and there was still three windows behind the President's desk across from them, but it had definitely gone through redecoration.

Overall, it had a very Spanish vibe to it. Red, yellow and orange was splattered across the room. It was so colorful, that the blonde thought that he was going to get a headache.

"Good morning, gentlemen," the President called from his desk, pulling the blonde agent from his thoughts, causing him to look up.

Mr. Graham sat at his desk, writing something on a worn piece of paper as he sighed wearily, his head in one of his hands. He finished the last sentence he had been on, rose, and smiled.

The President had a kind face. He had a thin stubble of black beard speckled with gray on his chin, his hair in the same condition. He had several wrinkles around his warm hazel eyes that reminded Leon very much of Ashley's. The man looked as if he had not slept in days.

"Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing towards a small cluster of chairs in the center of the oval carpet. Pushing a few chairs away, the agents sat down. "Thank you for coming here at such an early hour."

"We are glad to be here, sir," Maurice said, nudging Leon painfully in the ribs.

"Oh, I am too, sir," the younger agent mumbled as business-like as he possibly could, stifling a yawn. He had never been a morning person.

The President nodded. "I am pretty sure that no one has told you exactly why you are here, Mr. Kennedy. Am I right?" The blonde nodded, somewhat confused. "Very well. As you already know, you are supposed to become my daughter's bodyguard, so I shall start with that.

"You will start tomorrow morning. As I have already said, you will not only guard her for the majority of a week, but you will also have to investigate her strange behavior. We have set aside a room for you not far from Ashley's. If it will not disrupt your schedule, you will stay here from Monday until Saturday morning. You may go home on Saturday. Is that alright with you?"

The blonde pondered it for a few moments, then muttered a quick "Yes." The President smiled graciously.

"Good. You will also get a raise, and be paid every Saturday before you leave." He began pacing back and forth in between the agents and his desk.

"Now, I must tell you the other reason why you are here. This is classified information, so you must tell_ no one _of what I am about to say."

Both agents nodded with a "Yes, sir." _"Classified information"? _The President pushed a small button that had apparently been installed into his desk. The door behind them sounded a _click_.

"Very well. Robertson, have you brought in what we have asked for?" he asked the older agent, gesturing slightly towards the suitcase next to his chair.

"Yes, sir." Maurice lifted it from the floor, and pried it open. He pulled out a large manila envelope, and handed it to President Graham as Leon watched curiously. _Maurice never said anything about that..._

The President emptied its contents onto the wooden desk, stooping over so that he could see the objects better. Leon's eyes widened in disbelief and shock, looking over the items twice more, just to make sure that what he saw was true.

They were photographs of mangled dead bodies and faces of human beings. _That_ sent shivers rolling down his spine. _Those people look so familiar, almost as if I've seen them before... _he thought.

Mr. Graham noticed Leon's strange expression. "... What is it, Kennedy?" Both of the older men turned their attention towards the blonde, waiting for an answer. "Knowing where you have been, you have seen things like this before..."

"... That's just the thing, sir. The people in most of these pictures look very familiar..." He paused." Where have these come from?" he asked, his tone suddenly much sharper, surprising the other two men.

"Well..." Maurice pulled another manila envelope from the suitcase, marked "R. C.", handing it to the Mr. Graham. He pointed a finger towards the photographs on the table. "_Those_ are from the past few days. Various C.S.I.'s have taken these photographs from all over the U.S." He lifted a face-down photograph from the pile, handing it to Leon. "I think that you will find that one familiar... It was taken just last night."

Leon flipped it over... And nearly choked on his own saliva.

It depicted a middle-aged blonde man, lying on the ground sideways, his lips parted slightly. It appeared as if he was unconscious, but the agent could not be sure of that, for his notable black sunglasses were covering his eyes_. Wesker_!

"They found him?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the photograph. Maurice nodded, then, realizing that he could not see him, explained.

"He was dead whenever they discovered him." Leon shot up.

"Dead! _The _Albert Wesker, _dead_?" The other two men simply nodded.

"Dead as disco music."

_Yet another _truly _amazing joke from Maurice Robertson, ladies and gentlemen... _Leon sat back down, nearly falling off of his chair due to his shock.

The President rose to his full height. "He is not the only one, Kennedy." He grabbed several more pictures, and placed them in front of Leon. "Every one of these people have died the in the same way."

"How is that proven?" the blonde asked, examining the photos.

Maurice pulled a random photograph from the pile, placing it next to the picture of Wesker. "Look..." He pointed at the eyelid and forehead of the person in the randomly selected picture; a middle-aged woman with very pale skin, black lipstick, and black hair, with what appeared to be a red tattoo of a spider on her left cheek.

_And creepiest photo of the year goes to..._

"Do you see those odd marks on her face, Kennedy?"

_You give me a picture of this creature and expect the "odd marks" to be the thing I notice most? _"Yes," he replied, for the first time noticing the small, odd-looking green and brown marks scattered across her features. "It looks as if she's... decaying..." Maurice pointed towards the picture of Wesker.

"You see the marks on his face? They're kind of hard to see." After squinting for a few seconds, he noticed that, sure enough, the same marks were on Wesker as well. "Do they look familiar to you?"

Leon paused in thought. "... They do look familiar... Wait a minute, they look just like marks created on someone when they are infected with the T-Virus!"

_Took you long enough... _Maurice thought. The President nodded as he pulled a photograph from the envelope marked "R.C.", and, after pushing most of the other pictures out of the way, placed it in front of Leon. "That is what we first thought of as well. This photograph-." He pointed at the "R.C." picture. "-is from Raccoon City. This person has the same marks on their skin.

"But there are still a few things that are confusing the scientists that are running tests on the bodies." The President gathered the photos, and returned them to the envelope, sealing it. "They have run blood tests, and found nothing even related to the T-Virus."

"And they haven't found any signs of Leprosy either," Maurice added.

"The bodies aren't even returning to consciousness?" the blonde agent asked. Both of the other men shook their heads.

There was silence for several moments. Leon broke it. "... There has been another thing that is confusing me: Wesker is-was-the only person that we knew of that truly wanted to bring Umbrella back. If he's dead... Then who's doing this?"

"No one knows. There is only one thing that we do know, gentlemen," Mr. Graham said. "We have a mystery diagnosis..."

* * *

What the men did notice, was that there was small clanking noises, almost too small to be noticed, coming from the air vent above them.

What the men did not notice, was that someone had been eavesdropping on their conversation from that area.

Ashley crawled out of the airvent above her easily-accessible wardrobe, dropping to the floor somewhat clumsily, hurting her wrist. Cursing herself mentally, she crawled back into her canopy-surrounded bed, staring up at the ceiling once she was tucked in.

_So Leon's going to be my bodyguard, and Wesker is presumed dead. The surprises keep on coming... _she thought.

"_Muerte, muerte_"

Ashley gasped, shot up, and searched around her partially-lit bedroom. Nothing was there except for her worn furniture. _Please, Lord above, make that stop! Don't make this happen again! _

She remembered the first time she had heard that a few days ago, nearly wetting herself in the process. It had been happening for days now, awakening her and causing her to stay awake. She had thought about telling someone, but-.

"No," she answered aloud, her voice quivering as tears formed in her eyes. "He will kill me if he finds out that I told someone..."

"_El chica matar"_

She laid back down, failing in her attempt to ignore the call from the invisible person and gain some much-needed sleep.

_"Muerte, muerte"_


	4. Chapter 4

Leon whistled a small tune as he placed clothing and other similar items into his suitcase. His whistling ceased momentarily as he came across his empty and worn leather gun holster, briefly reminding him that this was no vacation. Without a word, the blonde tucked his empty belt and holster into the suitcase. Due to strict policy, he and other agents working for the U.S. Government had to "keep their assigned firearms, ammunition, etc. from entering their homes, due to the possibility of harm directed towards nearby civilians."

Zipping the bag closed, Leon walked towards the nearby coat-rack, pulling his jacket from the knobs and putting it on.

The blonde agent jumped as he heard a crash from the kitchen. Without thinking, he ran into the kitchen. No one was there, but there were the remains of a shattered cookie jar lying next to the cabinets.

An audible rustling came from the small bathroom next to the refrigerator. Without a word, the agent grabbed a nearby vase before creeping into the small room. Looking around, Leon caught sight of movement. Once he recognized what it was, he lowered the vase, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Looks like you got out… _again_…" The agent received a small "_meow_"in reply.

His neighbor's cat rested against his white shower curtain, shifting her tail as she licked one of her paws clean. Sighing again, Leon lifted the overweight cat off of the ground, nearly getting his eye clawed out in the process. But that was okay:

The agent could honestly say he was used to it, considering this happened nearly every day.

Leon carried the cat into the hallway leading to the stairwell before turning left, vowing to throw the animal- speaking of which was _still _trying to surgically remove his eyeballs- out of his four-stories-high window one of these days. Walking past two of the numbered doors, the agent stopped at the third before knocking.

After a few seconds, a tall and lanky brunette man answered the door. Once he had recognized his visitor, his tired brown eyes widened slightly. "Hey, Leon. What is-?" His sentence was cut off as he nearly got a claw in the face. "… Oh… Anna!"

A few seconds after she had been called, the man's seven-year-old daughter came running to the doorway. "What is it, daddy?" The girl turned towards the agent and spotted the cat, causing her to grin ear-to-ear. She was completely oblivious to the fact that the animal was trying desperately to chew off the agent's nose. "Cookie!" The blonde still did not understand why it had been named "Cookie", considering the fact that the animal's fur was completely white.

Almost gratefully, Leon handed over the cat, said animal purring the moment she touched the child's arms.

_Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all to see the one and only "Bipolar Cat"! _

"Thanks, Mr. Leon!" Anna exclaimed before racing back inside. Leon cracked a small smile at his new nickname before the girl's father turned back towards him, smiling graciously.

"Really, thanks, Leon. I thought Anna was going to have a heart attack when she couldn't find that…. _creature_. I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble… Which I know she did."

The agent shrugged. "Not a problem, Lloyd." His friend leaned against the doorway, running his fingers through his hair as he sighed in exasperation.

"I swear, if Anna didn't love that cat, I would throw it out the window!"

_You are not alone. _

Leon glanced at his watch, nearly swallowing his tongue whenever he saw the time. "I got to go. See you later!" He turned to leave.

"Sayonara!" Lloyd called before closing his apartment door behind him.

Leon pushed the door to his apartment open, snatching the bag off of the kitchen table as he pulled a piece of dry toast from the toaster and shoved it into his mouth. After making sure that the door was locked, he ran down the stairs and was soon next to his car.

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Ashley sighed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Mrs. Graham stood next to her, glaring at her stepdaughter. "Don't you _dare _give me that, _chica_!" the older woman exclaimed, her heavy Spanish accent making it difficult for most to understand her words. "You look very nice, very business-like! After all, that's all that this is, _business_."

The blonde remained silent. Her stepmother smirked before she continued.

"That man _abandoned _you, Ashley! And yet you still harbor feelings for him! _Estupido chica!_" The woman ignored the tear that silently crawled down her stepdaughter's cheek. "And now your father has been stupid enough to hire-!"

"He is _not _stupid!" Ashley interrupted, earning a shocked look from the older woman. The blonde gasped as Mrs. Graham slapped her, turning the left half of her face red.

"Don't you _dare _interrupt me! I am your mother!" she exclaimed before heading towards the door. Opening the door slightly, she turned back around. "Mister Kennedy will be arriving shortly. Be ready by then." The woman leaned forward. "He does not care about you; He abandoned you," she whispered before closing the door behind her.

Ashley continued staring at her reflection for several seconds. Sighing dejectedly, she turned and sat on the bed, the mattress creaking under her weight. "You are _not _my mother," she whispered with venom in her voice. "My mother cared about me and understood me… She told me the truth."

The president's daughter laid down, closing her eyes. "You don't…" She took several deep breaths before rising up again. "Well, I'm going to show you! I was stupid enough to believe you before, but that's not going to happen this time…"

Ashley stood up and walked towards the door, resting her hand on the doorknob. "Just you wait, _Isabella_." She twisted the doorknob before stepping into the hallway.

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Leon sighed before looking at his watch for a fourth time. He had been standing next to the entrance for what seemed like an eternity, but according to his watch, only about two hours had passed since another man had left to retrieve President Graham.

The blonde sighed again before turning around to stare at his suitcase. _Zipper, Velcro, leather, leather, Velcro, zipper, zipper. Joy. _He continued to stare, becoming more impatient with each minute. The waiting time for meetings had always been long, but _never _this long.

_Okay, this is getting ridiculous. _

Leon peered up, past the suitcase, to stare at the photographs and drawing that had been nailed to the wall. Several of the frames held pictures of apparent meetings with several ambassadors and numerous presidents. Two photographs in particular caught his eye.

The first portrayed an apparently younger President Graham, standing next to three people: a teen-aged boy that looked very much like the President. Next to the boy stood a blonde woman, easily in her mid-thirties.

The woman looked exactly like the statue he had seen the day before.

Standing next to her was… Ashley? Leon took a step forward and squinted, just to make sure. Indeed, it was Ashley- a younger Ashley, probably in her early teen years- but Ashley nonetheless.

The girl was clad in baggy blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt, her chest-length hair tied off in braided pigtails. A beautiful smile was spread across her face. Leon chuckled to himself. He had to admit, she looked kind of cute.

The other picture that had grabbed his attention was placed a few inches to the right of the previous photograph. It appeared to be newer, with an older President Graham and his daughter standing side-by-side. The teen-aged boy was absent, and the Mrs. Graham that he had known had replaced the older blonde woman.

She was middle-aged, and obviously of Spanish descent. She stood next to Ashley, wrapping an arm around both her stepdaughter and her husband.

Leon stared at the photograph for a few more moments before his thoughts were interrupted by a male voice.

"Mr. Kennedy?" The agent turned to notice a younger man, obviously another agent.

"Yes?"

"The President and his family are prepared to meet you. I will lead you to them."

"Alright. Thank you." The other man nodded as Leon lifted his suitcase off of the ground before turning in the opposite direction.

Taking in a breath, the blonde adjusted his jacket, and began to follow the man.

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Ashley took in a deep breath. Why was this so hard? She was so nervous that she was ready to shake. Not even standing face-to-face with the possessed Ganados was as nerve-racking as this. He would finally meet her, and not just as an image in a dream: in person.

Lord above, she was about to explode from the tension.

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Warm hazel eyes, and long blonde hair.

The first thing he had noticed whenever he turned the corner was her warm hazel eyes, and long blonde hair.

Of course, there were other things about her that were different, such as the fact that her hair was waist length and much wavier, or that she had grown taller and curvier, but she still had those warm hazel eyes that she had been known for.

Both of them stepped forward until they were about arms-length apart, if that much. In a split second, she had wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight hug, smiling brightly.

"Leon… It's so great to see you again."

Dropping the suitcase next to them, Leon hugged the President's daughter back. "It's great to see you too, Ashley."

Damn. He was never good at speaking during emotional situations such as these. Ashley simply brushed it off and hugged him tighter.

Leon glanced up for a moment, trying to catch her parents' reactions. Her father was smiling warmly as he witnessed the tender moment. His wife reacted with a cold glare and fake smile.

_Screw that._ He hugged her tighter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Her stepmother was furious.

Ashley could not see her, but she could feel it. She was incredibly angry with her stepdaughter.

The young woman mentally shrugged. _Screw that._

She just continued to hug him. After two torturous years, she had finally seen him again.

And Ashley was just fine with that…

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**Aaw… (ahem) Yes, I am a slow updater, but I will _never _discontinue this story. **

**I just felt like saying that. **

**Oh, and thank you for the 32 reviews and 2,000+ hits! I LOVE YOU PEOPLE!**


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